Desert Flower Read Free

grappled with me and tried to force them apart. Then, as he wasn’t successful with this attempt, he drew back his hand and slapped me hard across the face. I let out a shrill scream that the air carried away as the truck sped into the night.
    “OPEN YOUR FUCKING LEGS!” We struggled, with all his weight on top of me, the rough stones cutting into my back. He hauled back his hand and slapped me again, this time harder. With the second slap I knew I had to think of some other tactic; he was too strong for me to
     
    fight. This man obviously knew what he was doing. Unlike me, he was experienced, no doubt raping many women; I was simply about to become the next one. I deeply, deeply wanted to kill him, but I had no weapon.
    So I pretended to want him. I said sweetly, “Okay, okay. But first let me pee-pee.” I could see he was growing even more excited now hey, this little girl wanted him! and he let me up. I went to the opposite corner of the truck and pretended to squat and pee in the darkness. This bought me a few minutes to think of what to do next. By the time I finished my little charade, I had formed my plan. I picked up the largest stone I could find and, holding it in my hand, went back and lay down beside him.
    He climbed on top of me and I squeezed the stone in my hand. With all my strength I brought it up to the side of his head and hit him squarely in the temple. I hit him once and saw him go dizzy. I hit him again and saw him go down. Like a warrior, I suddenly had tremendous strength. I didn’t know that I had it, but when someone is trying to attack you, kill you, you become powerful. You don’t know how strong you can be until that moment. As he lay there I hit him again and saw the blood flowing out of his ear.
     
    His friend who was driving the truck saw all this happening from inside the cab. He started yelling, “What the fuck is going on back there?” and looked for a place to pull the truck into the bushes. I knew it was over for me if he caught me. As the truck slowed down, I crawled to the back of the bed, and poised on the rocks, I jumped to the ground like a cat. Then I ran for my life.
    The truck driver was an old man; he jumped out of the cab and screamed in a raspy voice, “You killed my friend! Come back! You killed him!” He chased me through the scrubby bushes for a short distance, then gave up. Or so I thought.
    The driver went back, crawled inside his truck, fired it up, and started driving through the desert after me. The twin headlight beams illuminated the ground around me; “I heard the roar of the truck behind me. I was running as fast as I could, but of course the truck was gaining on me. I zigzagged and circled back through the darkness. He couldn’t keep me in sight, so finally he gave up and headed back to the road.
    I ran through the desert like a hunted animal; I ran through desert, then jungle, then desert again, with no idea of where I was. The sun came up and I continued to run. Finally I came upon another road. Even though I was sick with fear at the
    thought of what might happen, I decided to hitchhike again, because I knew I needed to get as far away as possible from the truck driver and his friend. What happened to my attacker after I hit him with the stone, I’ve never known, but the last thing I wanted was to meet up with those two men again.
    Standing on the side of the road in the morning sun, I must have been a pretty sight. The scarf I was wearing was now a filthy rag; I had been running through the sand for days and my skin and hair were coated with dust; my arms and legs looked like twigs that might snap in a hard wind and my feet were covered with sores that would rival a leper’s. Holding my hand out, I flagged down a Mercedes. An elegantly dressed man pulled the car to the side of the road. I crawled onto the leather seat and gaped at the luxury of it. “Where are you going?” the man asked.
    “That way,” I said, and pointed straight ahead, in